Don't Help Me
by lifeisgood4u
Summary: Matthew Williams is a Canadian living in America, and he also happens to be a marijuana addict. What happens when his half brother, Alfred F. Jones, tries to help him get over his addiction? UsCan short story.


**Thanks for reading, and keep in mind that Matthew hopefully doesn't seem to ooc, but marijuana does mess with people's head. **

Matthew lied on his bed, playing with a few strands of his hairs. With his other hand, he pulled a pipe out of his mouth, to release smoke. He placed the object back between his lips, colored dots floating within his closed eyelids. He tried connecting them, but all he was able to form were peculiar things similar to animals. He pitied them, the poor things probably felt so ugly.  
Lazy afternoons like these were beautiful, he felt more religious than a monk. His thoughts came and went, with just enough time to come to a conclusion but not enough time to worry himself over whether he was right or wrong. But today, for whatever reason, there was one stubborn thought that refused to leave him. Sure, it would go momentarily, but it kept shoving it's dumb ass back in. He groaned, rubbing his head with a hand as he retracted his pipe for another puff. Sliding it back in, he watched a deformed elephant float across his eyelids, limping from his lack of legs. Wait, how could it limp if it didn't legs? Whatever.  
That stupid Alfred would have loved an elephant with no legs. God dammit! He had entered Matthew's head again. That stupid thought. They were brothers, who the hell thinks about their brother? Nobody, that's who. Which probably meant he was a nobody. But who cares, it's not like anyone would be able to tell. Geez, Al must have thought he was such a loner.  
He sighed, trying to block out his thoughts with the white noise buzzing in his ear. God, that noise made his head burn. And that weird vibrating noise, too. Wait, what?  
He snorted, opening his eyes as he sat up to grab his phone off of his bedside. He barely grasped the object, his hands shaking. He awkwardly flipped his phone open, pushing it harshly to his ear, not bothering to check who had called him.  
"H-Hello?" he mumbled, taking another drag from his pipe and coughing lightly. He heard chuckling from the other end of the line, and he immediately recognized who's.  
"Hey dude, you smoking again?" He rolled his eyes, easily sensing the sarcasm dripping from his brother's tone.  
"That's my business, not yours. Bastard." Concentrating on his annoyance, he didn't notice the smoke building up in his throat. He coughed loudly, spitting the pipe out. Ugh, this was not his day. He groaned at his brother's laughter, slipping the object back between his lips.  
"Called it!" Alfred concluded, and Matthew bit his lip to keep from scowling.  
"So, why'd you call me, brother?" He enthused the word 'brother' with false cheeriness, disgusted with the very word. Wait, why'd he say it then? Oh yeah, it piss Al off. He grinned, pulling a few loose threads from his head.  
"Uh, just wondered if you're, I don't know, doing anything tonight?" He shook the hair from between his fingers, watching it fall to the floor. Why couldn't he fall like that too, instead of just lingering?  
"I'm busy. With stuff." He rubbed his eye from underneath his lens, as if to wipe away the red in his sockets. Al chuckled nervously, and Matthew scoffed. That was like his brother, being loud just to avoid the atmosphere. At least, when he actually sensed it.  
"I'll pick you up at eight then!" He again spit his pipe out, pulling his head down with his hand as he closed his eyes, trying to somehow reverse his brother's words.  
Bye dude! He hung up, not bothering to say goodbye. That idiot. He sighed, flopping back on his bed, forgetting his dropped pipe. The stress of Al visiting made his head's burning unbearable, and he cursed himself before passing out.

He woke up to a roaring engine and a pounding headache. He moaned, holding his head. He suddenly flew up, before falling and hitting the hard cushion he had been previously laying on. God, was he in a car? He sat up weakly, his hands acting as support. He looked out the smudged window to his left, and found that he was not in a car, but a jeep. Alfred's jeep. What was that fatso planning this time? He heard a chuckle from the seat in front of him, and he scowled.  
"Morning, sleeping beauty. Just driving you home." Home?! Shit.  
"Where'd I go?" he mumbled, a hand holding his head to as if to shrink his headache.  
"Aw nowhere, I just drove you around in case you woke up. But you never did." What. The fuck. Alfred.  
"Why?" he asked weakly, rubbing his temple with one hand and pushing his glasses up with the other.  
"I don't know, just to talk to you." But he had been asleep. What creep talks to a guy sleeping? Al, apparently. He was just that demented.  
"Whatever. Just whatever. Take me home, Al." His headache wasn't improving, and he couldn't help but wonder what exactly Alfred had talked about in his sleep. Assuming that was the only thing he had done.  
"Okay, okay, you got me. I threw away the marijuana." Matthew sat in shock, holding back his rant in case there was more exciting news.  
"Aaand I hunted down that dealer of yours and told him that if he sells to you again, I'm telling the cops." Really, now why would he want to do that? God, now he was thinking sarcastic questions he didn't know the answer to.  
"I would have preferred being raped in my sleep." he spat. Alfred laughed loudly, and Matthew wished he could suck the obnoxiousness out of that kid and make the guy choke on it.  
"Sorry dude." Sorry wasn't going to cut it. He sighed.  
"Okay smart ass, why'd you drag me along?" he asked bitterly, staring at the cushion to his right. Alfred sharply pulled over, and glared at the surprised Canadian. Matthew's eyes sharply made contact with his brothers, and he gulped, Al's face getting serious for once in his pathetic life. Alfred quickly climbed to back of the jeep, and Matthew backed up to his left, startled as Alfred sat next to him. Al wrapped an arm around him, and he shuddered, not used to his brother acting so...weird.  
"I don't want you to think that's the only way." Alfred sniffed, head tilted to the ceiling. Matthew just glared and scrunched his face.  
"I'm fine." Al turned to face him, eyes glazed with tears and mouth in a pout.  
"No you're not, dude." Matthew squeaked as he was pulled closer. Was Al crying? With an unamused look Matthew stroked his brother's hair, avoiding all contact with him. Al leaned into Matthew's shoulder, and Matthew sighed before kissing his brother's head.  
"You didn't have to do that." He scoffed, trying to sound more mature than he was. He refused to look his brother in the eyes, and barely even noticed the weight of Al's head leaving his shoulders. He gasped as Al pulled him into a kiss, his brother's nails gripping his shoulder. When the man pulled away, Matthew looked away, face flushed.  
"I love you." Alfred proclaimed weakly, pulling Matthew's head to face his own. Matthew gulped, holding his breathe.  
"Yeah well..." He sighed. "Maybe I love you too." He mumbled stupid under his breathe, but Al didn't seem to notice. His brother's face lit up, looking gayer than the forth of July.  
"D'aw I knew you did!" Al nuzzled Matthew's forehead, and Matthew smiled, despite feeling shitty for doing so.  
"Let's go home." Alfred said calmly, releasing Matthew's head and climbing back up front. Matthew sighed, unable to wipe that silly grin off his face. That idiot may be, well, an idiot, but at least they could be idiots together. God he sounded romantic.


End file.
